


Prince Forgetful

by agneskamilla



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Amnesia, M/M, Once upon a time in a faraway kingdom, Out of Character, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agneskamilla/pseuds/agneskamilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Severus lost his memories but found some new allies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prince Forgetful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Utsukata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Utsukata/gifts).



> Originally written for the Severus/Harry Glompfest in 2014, as a gift for utsukata. Beta’d by the wonderful keyairreem; any remaining mistakes are my own, if found by you, please let me know.

Severus desperately tried to find a pathway through the bedlam of the battlefield. Spell lights, parading in every colour of the rainbow, illuminated his hurried steps through the mess of the struggle. The air was charged with all the noises of steel meeting steel and magic tearing through the bodies of those warriors who weren’t protected. Shrieks of pain filled the landscape. Muggles and Wizardkind fought side by side; intermingled together on both sides of the battle.

Severus had only one goal in his head: he had to find him. He dodged, dived, and shielded himself from the various curses heading his way, occasionally swearing through his teeth, while his eyes relentlessly searched for the man. He _needed_ to find him, as he had life altering information to deliver.

His grim determination forced him onward. _There!_ For a moment he thought he had finally found him. That mere moment was enough; he stumbled slightly and purple spell light surrounded him. He was falling, descending into the depth of oblivion as if he weighed less than a feather.

A splitting pain in his head, then all faded to nothingness.

 

*

 

Mother Nature woke him up. The unstoppable rays of sunlight did everything to get through his eyelids, and their carefree dance, filtered through the tiny barrier protecting his sight, didn’t let him slumber further on. He tried to shake his head, to chase them away, but when he moved an agonizing pain shunted through his skull, so he decided to stay where he was. Birds were chirruping and the soothing voice of a tree’s thick canopy caressed by the wind could be heard somewhere nearby; it gracefully yielded to the ever changing will of the wind meanwhile producing noises not dissimilar to those of the ocean.

Suddenly somebody was poking him in the neck with something pointy, and simultaneously kicking him in the rib with an annoying persistence, and not tenderly in the least!

“There you are! Wake up, you git!” the perpetrator demanded.

He opened his eyes to see his attacker and found himself face to face with an angry young man who currently trained his wand on Severus’ jugular. He had the most exquisite emerald eyes, at the moment sparkling with his fury, chiselled features, and an atrocious bird nest of dark hair. He didn’t look familiar, but Severus found him very pleasing to the eye.

“Come on, Snape! Get up! I have to bring you to Dumbledore dead or alive.” The man was impatient. “It’s a pity he would prefer alive,” he added with a derisive snort.

Snape? Dumbledore? Severus hadn’t got a clue what the other was talking about. Then it hit him: he didn’t remember anything! He didn’t know what he was doing there, not even _where_ he was, and most importantly _who_ he was? Panic settled in his chest but he pushed it back. He knew, like he knew how to pull a breath, that he must stay as calm as possible. He was in some kind of danger and this man was the key to unveil it. He knew he must be cautious; first he had to sum up the situation. He needed to gather information about his sudden lack of memory — as he assumed it was a new occurrence; it _felt_ like one — and about his surroundings, not to mention his companion. He had a gut feeling that he couldn’t trust anybody, especially not someone who was standing at the acting end of a weapon, currently aimed at his nose.

For now Severus needed to cooperate. He got up carefully, aware of the tip of the wand, hovering only inches away from his nose. His head was throbbing with pain but he ignored it.

“Where are your wand and weapons?” the young man asked.

Severus looked around and saw the remains of some fight for the first time. All over the field bodies littered the ground. Some of them were supported by comrades, others reclined on the soft bed of grass, unnaturally still. If this was some kind of war then he and the man aiming his wand at him must have been standing on different sides of it. Damn it! Severus needed more information.

He examined the place where he previously had rested but found nothing, no wand, no weapon, and no tool to defend himself.

“I don’t know,” he answered the man’s question from earlier.

“Probably the rogues had taken it. Bloody vultures!” he seethed. “Move! I will escort you to the base, but do not try anything funny, or I will hex you into the next month!”

He jerked his head in the direction of the nearby forest and waited for Severus to set off.

“Pull your hood into your face. If they recognise you, they will kill you on the spot, and we wouldn’t want that, now would we? Where would that leave _my_ fun?” The man poked Severus in the rib with his wand and they departed. They walked side by side, the wand-point ever present in Severus’s side. Soon they entered the forest and followed some narrow track, obviously well known by Severus’ companion.

They had been walking in silence for a while before Severus asked. “What is your name?”

“It is none of your business,” the man snapped back. Severus rolled his eyes. After a few more metres the young man awkwardly mumbled. “Potter. Harry Potter.”

Now Severus needed to be careful. “Do you know mine?” he asked tentatively.

Harry snorted. “Severus Sodding Snape, Precious Prince of all the lands surrounding us. Everybody knows that.”

Severus was astonished. A prince, surely not! The insult seemed to come on its own, almost as a natural response. “Don’t overwork your brain with such flourishes on my behalf.”

“Should I call you Your Royal Highness, then?” That sounded really weird to Severus.

“Every simpleton knows the basic difference between a name and a title.”

Potter marched on, urging Severus on as well.

“Is this my land, then?”

“You wish! It is the Forbidden Forest, no man’s land, but its occupants’.”

“Am I your enemy?”

“Of course not! We are the best bosom buddies ever! What do you think?”

“I think sarcasm is not your strong suit.”

Harry was seemingly irritated but the wand still not failed in his hand. “What are all these questions?”

“I’m just living up to the proverb _Know thy enemy_.”

“But of course. Hurry up, I don’t have all day.”

Severus didn’t risk the disclosure of his vulnerability by his enemy with asking more questions. They continued their journey through the forest in silence.

Severus used this time to examine the young man by his side. He contemplated his age — couldn’t be more than twenty-five — and all those demons which were surely haunting this angry young man. Severus did not remember, but he just _knew_ he had excessive knowledge about some demons as well.

After a very long walk the trees started to thin. The ruins of a castle could be seen in the distance. It seemed to be deserted, but after a few minutes it became obvious that this was their destination, so it must have been concealed from unwelcome visitors.

As they reached the heavily warded grounds Harry gestured for Severus to pass before him with a malicious smirk on his face. Severus stepped through the wards with a heavy foreboding feeling but nothing happened.

Seen from the inside of the protective fields the building was still in ruins, but instead of being unoccupied, it was buzzing with life.

“What is this place?”

“Hogwarts, the home for anybody who seeks sanctuary,” Potter answered absentmindedly, with a confused expression. “Nowadays it is the headquarters to the resistance and the refugees, but the castle previously had been a school, before it was ruined by Voldemort.”

Severus only nodded and didn’t let his ignorance show.

 

*

 

Once upon a time the castle must have been breathtaking. By now, decay had corroded its beauty, but it still was there, shining through the damaged walls. On their way to their final destination, through formerly elegant hallways and torch-lit corridors, they passed by a throng of people, old and young, men, women and children alike. Some of them were injured, others tried to heal the wounds, bandage the scars. All the inhabitants of the castle seemed to know Harry well. They welcomed him back with their smiles and pats on his back. Severus hid deeper in his hooded robe. Some suspicious looks tried to pry under his cover, but no one questioned his presence; no doubt, only because of Harry’s act of nonchalance around him.

Albus Dumbledore, the elder of the colony and the head of the resistance, lived in the last remaining tower, guarded by a stone gargoyle.

“My dear boys, I’m so delighted you both are fine and finally here,” he welcomed the two men warmly. One of his hands was badly injured, blackened and withered.

Severus was surprised by the friendly reception; wasn’t he the enemy here after all? This old man with the twinkling blue eyes and long white hair and beard greeted him like he was the man’s lost grandson. But alas, as far as Severus knew, he could be as well.

“I delivered him as you asked, although I can’t see why,” Harry stated almost petulantly. ”I should have helped with the casualties instead of this fool’s errand; or I could have been working on some new weapon, considering that once again we hadn’t been able to penetrate Voldemort’s armour and injure him neither with magic nor with Muggle weapons. He had seemed to be invincible.” At the end the steam ran out of his rant and the last words left Harry’s mouth in a sigh.

“Everybody has a weak point, we just have to find his,” Albus firmly stated. “He was always too arrogant, too full of himself, underestimating others. What do you think, Severus?”

Until that point Severus hadn’t uttered a word, just tried to seek as much information as possible. Harry took his chance to speak away.

“Why do you even ask him, Albus? Surely you don’t hope help from the likes of him?”

“Oh, but the wards let Severus through, did they not? Only those without a malicious intent are granted entrance by the wards; anybody else is knocked unconscious by the protection over this place.”

“It must have been a trick.”

“It _is_ a proof of his good intentions,” Albus said a tad more loudly. Harry did not protest this time, but he clearly remained unconvinced.

“So what is your opinion on the matter of Voldemort, Severus?” Albus turned to Severus once again.

The old man’s eyes seemed to penetrate his mind, and Severus felt the urge to construct an impenetrable wall against him in his head but for some reason he didn’t. For some unexplainable reason he trusted the old man.

“It seems I have forgotten a few details, so I find myself unable to answer your question.”

Dumbledore studied him for long moments, as if searching Severus’ very mind for answers, then he bowed his head with a sad smile.

“How unfortunate.”

“How many details?” Harry interrupted impatiently.

Severus looked him in the eye, seeking something in the green depth. “All, it seems,” he admitted.

“Must be the consequence of your fall and following concussion,” Albus mused.

Harry’s face turned red with his anger. “Oh, so you don’t remember!” he exclaimed. ”Amnesia would come in handy, I imagine.” The mocking was clear in his voice. “Don’t try to trick me, because I won’t fall for it!”

Severus’ ire started to boil as well. “I wouldn’t dare to indicate that your bright intelligence can be tricked by anyone, especially not by somebody so below your level like I am.”

“Don’t be a smart-arse, Snape, or a curse will find its way to you.”

“Tsk-tsk, it is a very un-noble thing to threaten somebody who is unarmed.”

“Boys!” Dumbledore’s disapproving voice interrupted their verbal sparring match.

Harry gritted his teeth but managed to leave Snape’s provocation without an answer. Severus felt oddly satisfied.

But he wouldn’t have been Harry if he hadn’t tried one last time. “Albus, it must be a time triggered memory charm, which also made his entering here possible.”

“I trust Severus completely.” It was delivered at such tone that no place remained for protest.

Harry, rendered speechless, was a captivating sight: still impassioned and angry, struggling to control his emotions. Cheeks flushed, eyes glowing, muscles tense.

“Why do you consider me an enemy?” Severus asked suddenly. If he wanted to preserve Harry’s fascinating fury with his question, then he succeeded.

“You are the right-hand man, the most devoted follower and precious nephew of the monster, Voldemort, who killed my parents!” the young man yelled.

Severus didn’t expect that; he was repulsed and disbelieving.

“Your uncle is responsible for the fate of my grandfather, who had to hide in exile because of Voldemort, although he had been a knight of the King previously, and Albus’ injury was caused by Voldemort as well. He is the worst kind of tyrant, exploiting these lands, feeding only his own greed. He killed, maimed or tortured everybody who dared to protest. And you, you assisted him in all of these crimes and more! You together destroyed this whole country!”

Severus didn’t know what to say. Was that true? He wanted to believe that no, those were all lies, but how could he have known for sure?

“Never forget, Harry my boy, looks can be deceiving,” Dumbledore stated calmly.

Harry wanted to cut in, but Dumbledore didn’t let him. “In the previous years we received priceless inside information from Voldemort’s lair. Our efforts to feed and protect those who come to us were also funded by an anonymous source.” The old man gave Severus a warm and genuine smile. “It was you, Severus, who spied and leaked the information from the inside for years, and all the jewellery, which allowed us to feed and armour our troops, were sent by you. We are in your debt.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked the question which was on Severus’ mind as well.

Albus nodded. “Absolutely. Every offering arrived in a similar pouch to that on your belt, Severus, each sealed with the same magical signature. Yours.”

It was the first time Severus took notice of the pouch. He unstrung it and opened it up. It contained an unlabelled vial with an unidentifiable, green, oddly shimmering, vicious substance.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“Possibly snake venom, maybe a basilisk’s? Without a more thorough examination I can’t be sure. If it is basilisk venom, and I highly suspect from the colour and consistency that indeed, it is, it is very rare, and very expensive.” Severus didn’t remember why he had had it.

“I am sure it will come to the light with time, but for now, Severus needs a sword, a wand and an army, to take back the throne which is rightfully his.”

“What?” Two disbelieving shrieks followed Dumbledore’s words.

“When Severus’ father, the King, died, Severus was still a minor, that is how Voldemort, his uncle, has risen to power. Now that Severus is not a minor anymore it is time for him to claim his birthright.” Dumbledore said all this as lightly as he was talking about today’s weather.

“You can’t expect me to…” Severus started to protest, but was halted midway.

“Of course not, my boy,” Dumbledore said soothingly. “Firstly you need all the things I mentioned beforehand. So, Harry, I give you the task to provide them.” Albus turned his gaze on Harry and he knew better than to protest in the face of the old man’s determination.

Harry nodded, but it was obvious that he wasn’t happy.

“I still don’t trust you,” he told Severus coldly.

“If you don’t trust me then why are you helping me?”

“Because you are better than _him._ ”Harry grimaced. “Anybody would be better.”

“As for your memories, Severus,” Albus added, “they will return without interference, the natural way. They only need time.”

“Time. The one thing we do not have!” Harry huffed. “Come on, Your Royal Highness, we have some things to do. You better put the hood back on,” he said before he marched out of the room with Severus in his wake.

 

*

 

“We are going on my shift of night-watch to the village,” Harry announced as soon as they left Dumbledore’s rooms.

“If it is your shift then why should I accompany you?”

“You come with me! I won’t leave you here, and who knows, maybe I will be able to lose you somewhere along the way.”

As Snape gave him a closer look, Harry seemed to be exhausted. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Nice try, Snape, but you will come. Your usual enormous amount of energy which drives your vicious tongue should be enough for you to stay awake and alert. ”

“Hopefully you won’t be using the inner resources customarily supplying your higher brain functions, because in that case I will have to drag your scrawny little arse back here myself.”

“Ha-bloody-ha.”

When they left the grounds together, the sun was already setting.

In the village all seemed to be peaceful; they roamed the same streets, over and over, hiding in the shadows, clinging to the edge of the darkness, not to be seen.

“Why the patrolling?” Snape inquired after a long hour of silence between them.

“Voldemort and his minions often come here to have some _fun_.” Harry’s voice was full of disgust. ”We must be ready to protect the remaining villagers. We need to be…”

Harry hadn’t got the chance to finish the sentence, because Snape pushed him into the nearest wall and kept him there with his own weight.

“Wh…”

“Hush.” Snape’s whisper brushed Harry’s earlobe. “Somebody is coming.”

Severus cloaked Harry with his body, his very presence, and his dark robes from the enemy’s eyes. Harry struggled, he wanted to fight, but Severus held him firmly. He was awash by Harry’s intoxicating scent and the humming of his capable magic.

“They are on a raid,” Harry whispered angrily, as the group of men got closer to them. They were members of Voldemort’s fortress guard.

“No, they aren’t. Look at them. They are drunk and disorganized.”

Their intoxicated giggling and bluster echoed down the street they were approaching from.

“Don’t strike and ask questions later, because you will lose valuable information over your reckless actions,” Severus advised, so quietly, it was available only for Harry’s ears. “Albeit this strategy would require some actual thinking on your part,” Severus mused with a smug smirk.

From this proximity they can easily hear the conversation between the guards.

“Zat will be a hell of a celebration.” Hic.

“Uh-hu.” Another voice then a burp. “All with the fancy solstice festivities and the cromo… corno…

“Coronation, you lightweights!” corrected a third voice and they were all laughing together.

“The Dark Lord ‘ad always known ‘ow to c’lebrate, the ol’ bastard.”

Their evil laughter remained behind after they had left the street.

When their noise was lost in the distance, Severus let Harry go.

“We need to get back to Hogwarts and warn Dumbledore,” Harry said, and Severus only nodded in agreement. They hurried back to the castle together, for once in perfect unison.

They reported to Albus everything they eavesdropped on. For a few, tense moments Albus pensively stroked his beard with an intense expression of concentration on his face. Then he spoke.

“Your uncle, Severus, plans to take advantage of the imminent summer solstice. Emperors established on this night are said to be supported by the magic of the earth and spirits, flowing through the veil dividing the two worlds. I guess his belief is, if he is enthroned on this night of all nights, his reign will be firmer, supported by ancient magic.”

“Is that possible?” Harry inquired.

“Maybe, although ancient magic is always quite unpredictable,” was Albus’ cryptic answer.

“The solstice is in two days’ time,” Severus stated.

“If the magic of the earth accepts him, then he will be the rightful king, and we won’t have anything to do against that,” the old wizard continued.

“Over my dead body!” Harry exclaimed.

“Oh, don’t worry, we won’t need that, albeit we have to hurry our plans up a little.”

“We will make a king out of Snape here, won’t we?” Harry asked.

“Yes, that seems to be the idea.” Dumbledore turned to Severus. “Don’t be anxious Severus, my boy, you will manage splendidly.”

“Yes, you can’t be worse than old Voldemort,” Harry added, possibly to cheer Severus up. Or maybe to make him flee.

“Now that is really flattering, Potter, thank you so much. I’m set at ease by your confidence in my abilities.”

“I’m happy to be at your service.” Potter winked at him, but retreated to his serious face in a moment’s time. “So, we will prevent Voldemort from becoming king and exchange him with Prince Forgetful. Splendid. I organize a meeting with the warriors and strategists for tomorrow. But now I’m absolutely knackered.” He stood up. “Come, my Prince, I will show you to your royal suite.”

Harry accompanied him to his room and they managed to bid each other good night in a civilised manner, but Harry, of course, needed to have the last word.

“Oh, and please use a concealment charm instead of the hood tomorrow. You look like the Prince of Death.” Severus rolled his eyes as Potter left in the direction of his own room, still laughing.

 

*

“Today we will get you a sword!” Harry greeted Severus after breakfast the next morning. “Fortunately I know just the place to find a suitable one for you.”

The young man led Severus to a tiny workshop, hidden in the backyard, built close to the castle’s walls. It was a friendly place, almost homey for a workroom, and all the beautiful knives, daggers and swords on display fascinated Severus to no end. On one wall there was a fireplace with the inevitable anvil and hammer, but all the remaining three walls, except the door and window, were covered by brilliant works of craftsmanship.

All the weapons displayed were different and unique. There were longswords in the plainest possible design; it was obvious that their maker kept practicality in the forefront of his mind when making them.

There were knives made for the fairer sex, beautiful in their crafting, embellished with gems.

But there was one sword which piqued Severus’ interest more than all the others together.

It was a rapier blade, light and long, ideal for fencing; a double edged, plain steel blade without any stones, but with a beautiful hilt in the form of a wyvern, a two legged dragon with a serpent’s tail, crafted from steel with astonishing precision. The wyvern of the hilt guarded the wielder from injury, weaving its body around the bearer’s hand. The sword was strong but flexible, long and lithe, an ideal representation of Severus’ own physique.

The sword was exquisite.

Harry must have spotted how taken Severus was with the weapon. “Oh, the Wyvern. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Severus nodded.

“It is my own favourite,” Harry confessed. “It was crafted by a special procedure, not dissimilar to the crafting of wands. It combines the magical properties of several ingredients to give a… personality, in lack of a better word, to the sword,” Harry explained. “A void was made in the hilt and it was filled with a few drops of dragon blood in this case, then it was sealed with the sword’s pommel. Absorbed by the weapon it gave the sword not only character, but some strength and physical attributes as well. The Wyvern repels fire magic and never warms up, not by any kind of flame.”

Severus was truly awed. “This is ingenious, not only esthetical. I would love to meet the bladesmith who made this.”

“Really? You think it is a good idea? Several people think it to be foolishness and futile. They usually think that their swords don’t need a character of their own, just a good old steel blade.”

“Who made this sword? I want to meet him. Can you arrange a meeting for me?” Severus was uncharacteristically enthusiastic.

Harry laughed. “No need, because you have already met him. I made them all.”

Severus was dumbstruck.

“You?”

“Yes, me,” Harry answered a shade defensively. “Is it that unbelievable?”

“No,” Severus hesitated. “I always imagined swordsmiths to be more… substantial.”

“Up to this point your problem was that I am not brainy enough, and now you complain that I am not brawny!” Harry answered with a mock outrage, but his eyes were smiling.

Severus wanted to ask more questions, but they were disturbed by a newcomer. A young blond man walked in without a single knock, as he owned the place. He gave Harry a lazy smile, but when he saw Severus even that little friendliness was gone from his face. The newly arrived man did not greet Severus, so he didn’t bother either.

“Back to your little cave again, Harry?” the blond man asked.

“As you can see, Draco.” Harry coolly replied.

“I almost missed you.” The man, Draco, tried to be flirtatious. Severus decided on spot that he disliked him.

Draco spotted the sword which enraptured Severus so much. “Ah, my dragon blade! A shame you do such silly experiments with it.”

Draco saying derogatory things about Harry’s work angered Severus for some unknown reason.

“I find Harry’s innovations in blade crafting truly inspired ideas.” He came to the bladesmith’s defence.

Draco only shrugged. “Harry’s swords are usually beautiful even if a little… whimsical. Beautiful, just like their maker.” The second comparison remained unsaid but was hanging between them in the air.

“Whatever. I hope one day this sword will be mine,” Draco paused, surely for dramatic effect, “and then your two dragons will be together.” He gave Harry a suggestive look. Severus was disgusted.

“Wyvern is already taken, Draco, I’m sorry. And now, if you will excuse me, we have some task that demands our undivided attention. Please, leave us now for our work.”

“What?” The blond pouted. “But you promised me that it could be mine!” Severus’ blood started to boil.

“I really cannot recall such a promise, and you always said it was too temperamental for you,” Harry explained patiently. In his stead Severus would have thrown the blond bodily out of the room.

“Yes, just like you. I appreciate that in both of you.” Draco smirked, Harry sighed, and Severus clenched his fists.

“Please, Draco,” Harry begged.

“Fine! I will see you later!” He finally stormed off.

Severus felt awkward, and inexplicably furious, so he struck. “I apologize if my presence was the cause for this entertaining little lover’s spat.”

“It’s not like that,” Harry answered calmly. “Although I had a crush on him at the age of sixteen.” Harry’s reminiscing little smile made Severus nauseous. “But even if Draco is very generous with his _affections_ he loves no one else but Draco Malfoy.”

Harry’s answer was bitter and made Severus’ chest ache.

“How did you become a swordsmith?” he changed the topic.

“I learnt everything from my grandfather; he was one as well.”

“And the experimenting?”

Harry shrugged. “I think it was his influence too. And maybe Albus’. They had always encouraged me.” Harry beamed at Severus, and Severus forgot to take his next breath.

“Wyvern was definitely inspired by grandfather. There were his childhood tales he always told me, about Habakukk, the witty wyvern hatchling, who had the heart and bravery of a lion and the cleverness of a serpent, and always got into some kind of trouble. I loved to listen to those tales.” Harry took the sword from its place on the wall into his hands with gentle, almost loving movements.

“Anyway, it is yours now.” He held the sword out for Severus with a tender smile. Severus’ jaw dropped to the ground.

“What? No, you can’t do that!” he protested.

“Of course I can. You need a sword, and Wyvern needs somebody who can take its temperamental nature into firm hands. A good deal on both sides.” He held out the blade, once again, and Severus accepted. The magic, absorbed by the steel, made his skin tingle where this remarkable tool connected with his body.

“I… Thank you.”

“Please, don’t mention.” Harry shrugged it off. “Now, the first item is checked on your list but we still have things to do. Come, Your Royal Highness, we have an army to drum up.”

 

*

 

“This is ridiculous,” Severus murmured under his breath, for the umpteenth time that day. It was more like a three-ringed circus than a meeting to discuss strategy. They went in the same circles again and again, ever since Albus had opened the meeting and had dropped his little bombshell hours ago.

All the important persons of the resistance were there, or so Harry told Severus. Most of them weren’t warriors but civilians who were forced to become involved in a struggle for their families and lives.

Albus basically asked them to trust him, then announced that Severus Snape, the man who up to that point was believed to be the number two bane of their existences, was now their ally, and their would be king. Saying it hadn’t been received well was an understatement extraordinaire. Fortunately Severus was seated between Potter and Dumbledore: a position that presented some protection from the assembled crowd’s wrath.

The loudest protestor was a tall redhead, Ronald Weasley. Harry introduced him as the strategist of their little army, if anybody can call their pitiful organization that.

With an enormous effort and many interruptions Dumbledore and Potter managed to delineate the plan. It was overly simple and full of what-ifs and potential traps, as Weasley enlightened them. Basically they would stomp into Voldemort’s stronghold and get the bastard before the evening of the summer solstice concludes in little more than a day’s time, while Voldemort is occupied with the celebrations.

Weasley was absolutely against Severus’ involvement and was unwilling to give the man any support.

Surprisingly Potter became Severus’ self-appointed protector. Weasley’s every _git, untrustworthy,_ and _will betray us all_ was countered with Potter’s enthusiastic _spy, on our side_ , and astonishingly _trust_. The actual context was: _We haven’t got another option but to trust him,_ but still. Albus seemed to be enjoying himself, judging by his sparkling eyes and amused little smile. He proclaimed clear and loud at the beginning of the meeting that he trusted Severus immensely, but all the hard work of persuasion he left for Potter.

And, after some time, people seemed to be listening to Potter’s word and accepting his judgement, except for the one Weasley.

They had obviously come to a standstill.

“The troops are in shambles, our morals are down and your fraternization with the enemy does not help a bit!” the man accused Potter once again.

Severus felt that the time for interruption had arrived. “I’m impressed! Such a long word, coming from a foul mouth like yours. Must have been smarting your trachea on its way out.”

The statement played its intended purpose as it stemmed Weasley’s flow of protests and insults.

“What the… Why you grea…” the man stuttered.

“Mr Weasley, you seem to be under the misconception that you will have any other chance than this one; but that is not the case. If the magic of the summer solstice is fulfilled than there will be no going back, or waiting out optimal times for an attack.” Weasley was almost bursting with the desire to interrupt, but Severus didn’t let him. “While I was trying to listen only as much as absolutely necessary to the rubbish running from your lips, I contemplated some matters.”

“Nobody is interested in your hogwash, Snape,” Weasley yelled.

“I am,” Potter said calmly, earning himself a betrayed look from Weasley. “Please, go on.”

“As far as I know you haven’t been able to penetrate the magical barrier protecting Voldemort’s person, am I right?” Severus asked. Several people around the table nodded, including Weasley. “First of all we shall take care of that matter if we hope to be successful.”

“And you have a solution for that?” Weasley sounded scepticism personified.

“Actually, I may have one.” From the corner of his eye Severus saw Potter lift an eyebrow. He almost smirked. “Not long after I had gained back my consciousness a full vial was found on my person. I am reasonably sure that it contains basilisk’s venom.” Soft murmurs could be heard in the room.

“Clearly you planned to poison one, or better, all of us,” Weasley assumed immediately.

“That is a distinct possibility, but as I regretfully can’t recall my original intentions with the substance, we shall use it to our advantage.”

“What that usage would be?” asked Albus breaking his silence.

“The venom is an extremely potent corrosive; it eats its way through everything. It is highly probable that we can use it to dismantle the protecting wards around Voldemort’s person.”

“It’s not more than an assumption,” Weasley snapped.

“And is still more than what you have offered,” Severus countered.

Correctly anticipating a renewal of verbal sparring, Harry cut in. “How should we apply it?”

“It will have to come into physical contact with the target,” Severus answered.

“What, you walk up to Voldemort and throw it in his face?” Weasley again.

“That is one possibility,” Severus answered.

“This plan needs at least two people,” Harry mused with a thoughtful expression. “One aiming the poison at Voldemort at the right moment, the other having his back, maybe working a distraction. After the deed is done both of them need to attack together.”

“It sounds risky, and we don’t have enough time to make an elaborated plan,” Weasley countered, although with much less force then previously.

“You heard Snape: If we don’t do it now, we won’t have another chance.” Potter’s words were quiet but firm. Several people nodded in agreement.

“Furthermore, as a strategist, it is your strong suit to refine our battle plan into a state as close to the optimal, as possible.” Severus addressed Weasley.

The redhead’s mouth narrowed into a firm line. For a moment, there was silence, then the man nodded as well.

“We will need to be divided into a minimum of three groups… ”

Severus glanced at Harry on his right; the man was looking at him with a smile on his face. Severus felt oddly warmer when he turned back to Weasley and his plan.

 

*

 

The next morning Potter announced that they were in need of some well-deserved relaxation after they had spent the night mostly with battle plans, and before they would march into the evening’s confrontation.

Potter’s idea of relaxation turned out to be fishing together at the lake, with a string attached to their toes, surrounded by the village kids. At first Severus found the whole experience awkward but then it was kind of liberating. Severus had a feeling that he had never done something like this before, or not in many decades, but he couldn’t be sure of course.

Harry led him to the lake on the edge of the castle’s grounds, to a spot guarded by a giant tree. Then he simply proceeded to remove his shoes and untangle the strings which he pulled out from his pocket. He transformed two coins, also from his pocket, into tiny hooks meanwhile whistling to himself and kindly chatting with all the urchins around them; they apparently worshipped the ground Potter walked on, who on the other hand called all of them by their given names and asked questions about their families. When Severus joined him, after some convincing, also bare-footed, Harry tied the hooks up on two pieces of string and turned to the children.

“I give you a sickle for every earthworm you bring us, and one extra coin for the longest you manage to dig up.”

Alf, Egbert, Cuthbert, Albie, and all the other boys ran off hearing the challenge. Harry smiled after them.

“You realize we could have done this much more easily, and cheaply, with magic?” Severus asked amusedly.

“Yes, but when we had first started coming here, as kids, to catch some fish, we hadn’t been allowed to use magic yet, we hadn’t even had a wand. So now, it’s kind of a tradition.” Harry shrugged.

“And you, of course, are the same insolent brat you must have been back then.”

“At your service.”

Harry’s horde of little sycophants got back in no time with the required worms, and was rewarded as promised; young Albie even gained the extra sickle for the longest earthworm supplied.

In mere minutes they were lying on their backs — string firmly attached to the toe, worm underwater — and they relaxed. Severus was _almost_ sure that he had never, ever, done anything like this before.

“Young Albie — is his full name Albus?” Severus asked after a while.

“Yep. Dumbledore gave sanctuary to many of these families, and this is their way to show their gratitude. It’s not unheard of to have children named after a leader or king,” Harry mulled over the matter. “Hey, when you become king, probably a lot of children will be named Severus! Little Sevs and Sevvies all around the land!”

Severus’ face contorted into a painful grimace. Harry laughed.

“Albus Dumbledore would be a suitable candidate to lead a country. Probably a better choice than…” Severus trailed off.

“Than you? He always says he is too old and not cut out for the role.”

“Maybe I am not, either. I don’t know, as I don’t remember if I am capable of fulfilling such a gargantuan task.” This fact frustrated Severus to no end.

“When I was watching you from the outside in the past, you were always in the background, concealed by the shadows. It was the rumour that you were a gifted potioneer and you could tear anybody into shreds with a weapon or with your words alone. I thought you were cold and cruel. But under that façade you managed to help our cause for years, from right under the nose of your uncle. Maybe you don’t remember, but under the surface you still have all the traits that made you capable of doing so. And those are all... er... respectable traits.” Harry blushed deeply by the end of his little speech. Severus found that rose was a fetching colour on him.

“Please, stop with the flattery or I will think of some ulterior motive,” Severus tried to lighten the mood, but Harry’s blush got one more shade darker. How interesting.

“Oh, but I didn’t even mention that folks sometimes called you the Prince of Darkness.” The young man teased.

“Merlin, but that is…”

“Sappy?”

“Exactly.”

Their dark mood once more dissolved they relaxed back into the tranquillity of the lakeside and the company they kept. They didn’t catch a single fish that morning.

 

*

 

Harry asked Severus to meet him in his workshop that afternoon, before they set forth to battle. Severus had almost knocked on the door, when he heard voices from the inside. It was not a conscious decision to eavesdrop on Harry’s conversation — because it was indubitably Harry’s voice he heard — but his second nature coming around, and making him spy on the situation. He sought out the most shadowy patch and leaned closer to the door to be able to hear everything. On the other side of the door Harry and a woman were talking.

“Are you sure, Harry?” the woman asked.

“Yes, absolutely.” Harry’s voice was filled with confidence.

“But it’s…” The woman’s voice trailed off, as if she were sniffing. “You always treasured it.”

“Don’t worry, it’s the right thing to do.” Harry reassured her gently.

“Right.” Another sniff and the noise of shoes shuffling on the floor. ”Promise me you come back.” Her voice sounded muffled, like her face was burrowed in some cloth.

“I promise.” The sound of footsteps, approaching the door, then Severus barely had time to raise his hand, as if he were just to knock, when the door opened and a very heavily pregnant woman appeared on the doorstep in Harry Potter’s company. Her hair was a mess, her hazel eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks puffy. It gave a measure of satisfaction to Severus to establish that the woman, at least in her current state, wasn’t beautiful at all.

“Your Highness,” the woman greeted him.

“Madame.” Severus bowed, and the woman left. Harry invited him inside.

“Are congratulations in order, Mr Potter?” Severus asked rigidly.

“Er, whatever for?” Harry replied astonished.

“Judging by your manner one might think you were raised in a cave, Potter.”

“Mostly in this shed, but not a cave, no. What would you like to offer your congratulations on?”

“Springing your spawn on the unsuspecting world, of course.” Hostility was palpable in his words.

“What? No, you should seek out Ron with that one. Hermione, Mrs Weasley, is my best friend, as is her husband. No spawn of mine involved there.” Harry seemed slightly nauseous.

“Oh. I see,” Severus answered stiffly.

“I’m not that way inclined, as they say,” Harry awkwardly admitted.

“Me neither,” Severus absentmindedly replied, as he was too caught up in what Harry had just said.

“How do you know? You can’t remember a thing!” Harry exclaimed.

“I just know. As I still know how to use my magic or brew a potion.”

Harry’s eyes were searching his face for something, but as Severus’ features remained unmoving, he turned his scrutiny toward a rectangular box on the working table.

“There is one more thing you will need before the evening comes. Sorry, I couldn’t get you a new one, but there was no one to make a new on such a short notice. Here you are!” Harry grabbed the box on the table and pushed it into Severus’ hand.

Severus removed the top and took the wand out from the box. It was a very dark wood, and as it came into contact with Severus’ hand it immediately started to shine with an iridescent glow. It was perfect.

“It’s ebony, twelve inches, strong, with a core of, well, wyvern scale.” Harry recited.

“Who was the previous owner?” Severus asked, although he suspected the answer.

“My grandfather.”

“And you are willing to part with this, why?” He gazed straight into Harry’s eyes, yearning for an answer.

“You need it more than I do,” Harry answered nonchalantly. “And it seems to fit you well,” he added with a soft smile.

“Foolish boy,” Severus whispered, then he stepped forward and kissed the man. The kiss itself was as much of a question — a demand, really — as it was an answer — _yes, yes, yes._ It was hungry and fulfilling; too much but not enough at all. Breathtaking, liberating, awe-inspiring. It was the first for Severus, as he remembered no other to compare this one to, but he knew, just knew in his heart of hearts that it was perfect. Divine. Harry’s smell filling his nostrils, his luxurious locks in Severus’ fist, his body melting into Severus’, seeking completion in Severus as much as Severus sought it in him.

It was diving under just to emerge complete on the other side.

Only the voice of fanfares, calling the men to battle, could make them stop.

Breath taken away, the only activities they were capable of were panting and clinging to each other, like they never wanted to let the other go.

“We… we will continue from this exact point, when it’s over,” Severus managed to say.

“Promise me!” Harry embraced him with a desperate strength.

“I promise.”

It was one promise which Severus intended to keep, whatever may come.

 

*

 

It was a carefully formed plan and as all carefully formed plans this one, too, went pear-shaped at one point. It was working splendidly for a while. They got into the castle in little groups, under the disguise of the descending twilight. Voldemort was preoccupied with the ceremony, so their presence in the fortress wasn’t discovered prematurely. By the time it was, they were in the inner part of the castle, after they had managed to lower the drawbridge with some spell done by Albus, and they had got through the moat.

The fight which then started with the guards was also part of their strategy; it was meant to focus the guards’ forces and gain their attention, while a select few sought the castellan out.

What Severus had not planned was to lose sight of Harry in the heat of the struggle. Originally it had been the two of them who were supposed to find Voldemort and eliminate him. Severus would throw the bottle of basilisk’s venom at him, exploding it in Voldemort’s close proximity, dismantling his shield this way, making it once again penetrable by magical or physical attack. Harry, meanwhile, would have attacked their foe and brought him down.

However Severus was alone when he came face to face with Lord Voldemort.

The tyrant was tall and dark, with cruel, unyielding features, like he had been carved from stone, with the most unusual crimson eyes. His gaze burnt a track where it travelled on Severus’ face before settling down on Severus’ eyes.

“Severus, the prodigal son, returned,” he hissed with an icy smile.

In that moment a firmly shut door in Severus’ mind reopened. The surge of his resurfacing memories hit Severus right in the gut and forced him onto his knees.

He remembered all his years of struggle to find an ally, his yearning for somebody to understand, to know, to accept the man he really was; all the years of being alone, associated with this man, never trusted anywhere. He recalled his boyhood, when he had idolized his uncle, then his disillusionment after he had seen the man’s cruelty and merciless violence and evilness.

All the pain inflicted on him by this very man came back to Severus. The tortures, the man’s cruel lessons, his joy when he had been able to rob Severus of everything he loved and cared for. The countless acts of aggression Severus needed to witness, when he couldn’t help.

He remembered his desperate attempt to contact Albus Dumbledore and his unprecedented relief and gratefulness when the man had accepted his word and his help.

The onslaught rendered Severus helpless for a moment which was enough for the man to summon the vial of basilisk’s venom from Severus’ clenched fist.

“I believe this belongs to me.”

That was their last chance to get rid of the monster and Severus failed. Somebody was calling his name from the background — _Severus!_ —and he recognised the voice; it was Harry. Harry, whom he had failed!

He struggled to his feet and aimed his wand, his gift from Harry, on the monster an uttered a curse.

Voldemort only laughed when the curse bounced off his protective shield.

Severus could still hear that precious voice calling him from the background, but he was consumed by his rage and disappointment which urged him on. With a feral cry, he pulled Wyvern out of its scabbard while hurling his body against Voldemort and stabbed the man in the chest with the sword.

Astonishingly, the blade penetrated the barrier which protected the man and sank into his body, while Harry, who was suddenly standing right next to Severus, cried out a curse which enveloped Voldemort in a vicious circle of fire. Miraculously Severus, who was standing right in front of Voldemort, still holding the sword’s hilt which was sheathed in the man’s chest, wasn’t consumed by the flames. The heat must have shattered the glass phial still held in Voldemort’s grip, because it exploded, causing a magical backlash which threw Severus back.

Once again darkness came forth to claim Severus as its own, and Severus surrendered to it, leaning back into the soothing blackness offered, still hearing his name called again and again, sounding almost like a plea, or a prayer. Then he knew no more.

 

*

 

A persistent, low murmur of voices led Severus back into the world of living, while a hand, caressing his forehead with its light touches, anchored him in the newly found reality. He leaned into the touch, let himself feel the callousness of the palm, the girth of the fingers sinking in his hair as they smoothed it out of his forehead, the coolness of the feathery touches against his skin, and he opened his eyes.

He was lying on the ground, Harry kneeled next to him and Albus stood over the pair of them.

“What has happened?” he rasped and with Harry’s help he sat up.

“What do you remember, my dear boy?” Albus asked.

“I… I remember my past, Albus! Everything really, up to the point where Harry’s fire curse generated an explosion of a kind. Probably the volatile nature of the heated snake venom caused it,” he mused, the scientist taking over for a minute. His companions only smiled at him happily. “Were we successful?”

“He is dead, was combusted by the flames. You weren’t affected because Wyvern is resistant to fire magic and it shielded you against it as well.” Harry enlightened him. “Although I still don’t understand how you were able to penetrate the protective field, even with the sword.”

“It was your doing, actually.” Severus was enjoying the young man’s astonishment way too much.

“Mine?”

“The twelve uses of dragon blood. Do you remember the seventh?”

“Er…” Harry hesitated.

Severus rolled his eyes. “It dissolves ambiguous magical auras; a kind of cleansing effect.”

“I did remember that but I just didn’t know it was number seven!” Harry defended himself indignantly.

“But of course. Nonetheless, as the magical properties of the dragon blood were absorbed by the blade, I assumed it might work.”

“Oh, excellent!” Albus enthused. “So at the end Wyvern was the solution for the problem. Fascinating.”

“And what about the enthronement?” Severus inquired.

The twinkling of Albus’ eyes tripled, if it was even possible. “Oh, I think the magic of the earth took care of that. Look at your wrists.”

Severus’ wrist was surrounded with an intricate pattern, consisting of several ancient runes tied together into an endless band.

“Oh.” So the coronation runes declared him the new king.

“I have one as well!” Harry exclaimed, and Severus hastily examined the young man’s runes. They matched Severus’ perfectly.

Severus only knew about one case when this was possible. “That means…”

“You two will be ruling this land together.” Dumbledore declared with a blinding smile.

“What do you mean together? Like co-rulers or what?” Harry asked confused.

“It may work,” Dumbledore agreed with a sly smile. The old coot! “Albeit two people governing an empire together are usually spouses.”

Harry groaned and looked accusingly at Severus. “I won’t hear the end of it; being your queen and all!”

Severus snorted. “I promise to immediately decapitate anybody who dares to refer to my spouse as ‘queen’. I prefer just the manly way he is. Although…” He gave a mischievous look. “It brings some intriguing ideas to mind.”

“Don’t you dare!” Harry yelled scandalised.

“I’m convinced that you will be able to work out all the details of your cooperation.” Dumbledore winked at them.

“Now help me get up! As my spouse you should be supporting me.” Severus’ voice was full of teasing.

“Who said anything about wanting to be your spouse?” Harry asked back, but helped Severus up to his feet.

Severus lifted an eyebrow, but did not answer.

“If it is your roundabout way to ask for my hand in marriage then you will have to make some effort when asking me,” Harry demanded.

“Now who behaves and makes demands like some prissy queen?”

“You…” Harry was seething, but Severus took his arm and turned them toward the castle.

“After some rest, if you would be so kind.” They departed, waving goodbye to a chuckling Albus.

They were walking together, leaving the battleground behind, leaning into each other, their movements in perfect harmony; Harry gently supported a limping Severus, while Severus embraced his waist possessively, lovingly.

After a few more steps Severus must have had enough, because all those gathered together could see him grab his Harry by the collar and pull him into a passionate kiss; more than likely for the sole purpose of shutting him up.

 

THE END

 


End file.
